Many Soviet Emigres Regret Move To Israel

TEL AVIV — When Irena Yablonski first heard the news that President Mikhail Gorbachev had been toppled by Kremlin hard-liners, she was ecstatic.

Yablonski, 28, a Soviet physician who emigrated to Israel earlier this year, was certain the new regime would set things right in her homeland. ``I am ready to go back,`` she declared.

``We thought life in the Soviet Union was hard because we didn`t have democracy. Now we know about democracy,`` she said with scorn.

A few weeks later, with Gorbachev restored to power, she was even more enthusiastic about the Soviet Union`s prospects.

``My home is Russia,`` she explained. ``I don`t want to be a Jew in Israel. I want to be a Jew in Russia.``

While her logic might be flawed, the bottom line is consistent: Yablonski regrets her decision to emigrate to Israel; she wants to go home.

So does Simon, a 32-year-old civil engineer from Kiev who emigrated to Israel a year ago.

Simon, whose lingering fear of secret police prevents him from giving his last name, was outside the Soviet consulate in Tel Aviv waiting in a long line with other emigres hoping to obtain a passport and permission to return.

``I learned Hebrew, but I still can`t find work in my profession. I`m a messenger boy,`` he said bitterly.

``My wife, too, she cannot find work. The only way they accept women to work in this country is through bed,`` he said.

Irena Yablonski and Simon are the exceptions. Of the 350,000 Soviet Jews who have emigrated to Israel in the last two years, 6,000 have applied for documents to leave Israel.

Of those, about 1,600 actually have left, and many of them indicated that their departures were temporary and for personal or business reasons.

But the figues are deceptive. They do not reflect the deepening mood of frustration and disappointment that has engulfed large segments of the Soviet emigre community as it tries to cope with acute housing shortages and dim employment prospects.

Nor do the figures reflect the impracticality of returning to the Soviet Union. The immigrants gave up their apartments, their jobs, their savings and their citizenship. To return would mean starting from scratch-a proposition requiring thousands of dollars in hard currency.

Leaving Israel also presents a problem. The Israeli government gives new immigrants an ``absorption basket`` worth about $11,000 their first year, somewhat less the second. If an immigrant chooses to leave Israel before five years, the money must be repaid.

Yablonski, who lives with her engineer husband and their 4-year-old daughter in a dingy hotel room, estimates that it will cost at least $15,000 for them to return to the Soviet Union. With no savings, and with her husband`s $5-an-hour part-time job at a bakery their only source of income, Yablonski`s hope of returning seems unrealistic.

``Freedom costs too much money in this country,`` she complained.

While Israeli officials are concerned about the small but growing number of immigrants who have taken steps to leave, they are more worried about the larger numbers of potential immigrants who simply are not coming.

From a peak of more than 35,000 arrivals last December, the flow has dwindled to 10,000 a month. It now seems unlikely that Israel will achieve its dream of 1 million Soviet Jews by 1995.

The main reason for the flagging momentum appears to be the lack of suitable employment in Israel, especially for highly skilled professionals. Those who are here are telling relatives back home of their unhappiness.

One indication of the mood: Last year 5,800 Soviet doctors emigrated to Israel; this year, only 2,500 have come.

``Jews in Russia think Israel is a very good country-but not for them. They feel that their only capital-namely their professions and education-are not so much needed here,`` said Yuri Kosharovski, who served in Moscow for the Jewish Agency, the quasi-governmental agency responsible for bringing Jews to Israel.

``So in spite of all the dangers in the Soviet Union, in spite of really free immigration, many have now decided to stay or to look for alternatives. Many are hoping that maybe the U.S. will raise its quota, or that Germany or South Africa will take them. Or perhaps the situation in the Soviet Union will improve.``

The flight from the Soviet Union also has been slowed by a new policy put in place by Moscow last July. Instead of automatically cancelling the citizenship of Jews leaving for Israel, it now requires them to obtain Soviet passports.

At first, Israel thought that was a tactic to tie up the immigration process in the Soviet bureaucracy. But the passports seem to be readily available, and the practical effect of the new policy has been to reduce the sense of urgency to leave the Soviet Union.

``Now that Jews know they can get passports, they feel they are under less pressure to leave. They can save their money, make preparations, wait for the situation to improve in Israel,`` said Galia Golan, a Sovietologist at Jerusalem`s Hebrew University.

The failed coup attempt last August spurred a 20 percent increase in visa applications to Israel, but there was no commensurate increase in immigration to Israel.

``It`s an interrelation of push and pull factors,`` explained Yaacov Khazanov, a researcher at Hebrew University. ``These are primarily economic refugees. They emigrate in search of better life, a better material situation. Israel is not their first choice.``

This is one reason why the Israeli government was so upset when the Bush administration delayed consideration of its $10 billion loan guarantee request for four months. Israel needs the money quickly if it is to present itself as an attractive economic alternative to the Soviet Union.